Lyrics:
homebound from my past
I can't look back
Slug a rish, slug a lot
Slug until I'm nauseous
Fuck the cops, fuck the law
Yeah, that be that mob shit
the mob
I know ima make it, I know I ain’t far
The shit that you giving ain’t up to par
If you try slide we shoot up the car
& we spinning back just
a fact
A lil bit of everything to be exact
Think party mix chips
When I call her a snack
And no Sir Mix-A-Lot
Ain't a part of this track
But she got
sold out, turnin young hoes
Tell her baby, no doubt, stick this dick in yo' mouth
I smoked a lot of weed, I said a lot of rhymes
Always fucked up in
gotta choose me first for a while
The problem might be small-scale now
But finding balance, that's the style
I tried to alot six months, do a ton of deep
same thang game came when I left em
I do it by my lonely now I'm the Big Homie
But I'm his Royal Slickness ghetto weakness come Rick is
steady mobbin'
Have you ever seen such a sight in your life? (Steady mobbin')
Bustin' caps in the mix
Rather be judged by twelve than carried by six
steady mobbin'
Have you ever seen such a sight in your life? (Steady mobbin')
Bustin' caps in the mix
Rather be judged by twelve than carried by six
seven-nine three one one)
With beepers
(Enter telephone number or numeric message
Press the pound key now)
[Sir Mix-A-Lot]
Pagers, call 'em what you
like
Ringtones
I'm stepping out fresh
I'm stepping out clean
My n**** young Mob
The boy DPC
When I'm up in the D
We gon' stunt like a dog
My n***** drop
my lyric proof vest
All the passing ladies staring at my chest
- Kinda curious aren' t we, why yes.
It' s the Styles MC I guess
cause of a lot
sold out, turnin' young hoes
Tell her baby, no doubt, stick this dick in yo' mouth
I smoked a lot of weed, I said a lot of rhymes
Always fucked up in
feelin' our style
We come through the spot real heavy on the waist
So when they wanna move, we put 'em in they place
Yo, I was raised by the block and new
in the cube, we mix a lot
Ain't no opps in the way, so we roll off
Make a hundred K and we take off
Ugly-ass bitch, keep the mask on
I ain't even say
of fine bitches tryin to sleep with me
Every night, sold out, turnin young hoes
Tell her baby, no doubt, stick this dick in yo' mouth
I smoked a lot
steady mobbin'
Have you ever seen such a sight in your life? (Steady mobbin')
Bustin' caps in the mix
Rather be judged by twelve than carried by six
when the gorilla's be on your scene
Infiltrating your whole squad, by in the morning time we'll be kings
Keeping everything we kill, don't be tellin when
Infamous up in this, you know how we get down
Is that yo' hoe? She feelin' our style
We come through the spot real heavy on the waist
So when they
em by the throat
Watch em choke
As I laugh a lot
I'm on a whole new level
Not that Goku level
Not that lord Zeus level
Uhh
Moving Goats
Like pebbles
throwaways (nope)
We shoot to kill, gettin' shot in style (blrrrd, blrrrd, blrrrd)
I done got rich, now a lot of niggas nervous (they mad)
And I just been
from the norms
And soon millions of folk
Records were being sold
By the early sixties, Dylan, Baez, Phil Ochs
Were doing intellectualized copies
cutoffs and tube socks
Play my shit a lot of deejays they do not
Cause me and bitch niggaz don't mix like two cocks
Who knocks with them pocket rockets
initially
Officially love and lust
Accompanied by misery
So obsessed with company
Watchin' how you move, how you walk
Where your compass be
Even when you move
She wants the earth moved
Jackhammer no
My tool's multifunction
I'm finna get down deep in her tum tum
Sir mix a lot of styles just to up the fun some
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